Leftovers
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs Governor's Office Only one family in the surface colony of Pallas gets the luxury of private accommodations, and that's the Ellesmeres. The governor and his wife share what from the outside looks like a wart on the north face of the habitat dome. About twice the size of the famcubes in the main habitat dome, this edifice has room enough for a private bedroom, relief cubicle, a shower that operates independently of the primary colonial water supply, a kitchenette and a small living room with a couch and several chairs. An arched window offers a view of the Pallas skyline, which consists primarily of a dozen other massive pillars of rock jutting out of the blue-green sea off the coast of Deserata's largest landmass. Ellesmere is currently in the kitchenette, putting the finishing touches on a turkey sandwich. Armitage wanders in through the open door, stopping for a moment to rap on the frame. His greatcoat is draped over one arm, and his tie has been loosened. Ellesmere returns a square container of mayonnaise to the cooling unit, then walks back to the counter and picks up his sandwich. "Come on in, Deke." Armitage moves quietly to the edge of the kitchenette. "Hi, Darian. Have a good holiday?" Ellesmere munches on the sandwich, chews quietly, swallows, then places the sandwich on the plate. He takes a sip of tea. Setting the glass on the counter, he nods. "Not bad. Quiet. No Nall." He smiles weakly. "You?" Armitage leans against the wall, switching his draped coat to the other arm. "It was all right... spent most of it at the office, but had time to call the family." Ellesmere nods, gesturing to the sandwich. "Want one? Got plenty left over." "Yes, actually," Armitage says, eyes wandering over the cabinets. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble." He motions to the counter. "Just show me the silverware drawer." Ellesmere chuckles, nodding. He points to a drawer left of the cooling unit. "The turkey's in the cooler, along with the condiments. Help yourself." Armitage nods warmly, tossing his tie back over his left shoulder and moving toward the indicated drawer. "I guess it's obvious why I'm here," he says, finding a knife and setting it on the countertop. "I'm stuck in a real stalemate, Darian. It seems like everything's a mess right now." Ellesmere furrows his brow. "Yes, it does. I don't think I'll waste any time browbeating you. You're doing the best you can, under the circumstances." He picks up the sandwich, takes a bite, then washes it down with his drink. Still holding the glass in his hand, he asks, "But you want advice?" Armitage opens the cooler door to sample the turkey before placing some on a napkin. "Well, yes." He smiles for a second. "It seems like advice is what keeps me flying back to Pallas." He places a slice in his mouth chewing quietly. "That and this turkey, wow. Did Eudora make this?" Ellesmere nods. "She did. She's actually pulling herself together. There's something sobering, I suppose, about the constant threat of invasion." He chuckles mordantly. "As for advice...God, Deke, you pretty much did a good job of throwing the proverbial pie in the face of the Nall on broadcast holovision. I certainly can't complain that you didn't want to give up Deserata, but you had so much room to haggle beneath that..." He sighs, shaking his head. "I told you once before: The Nall are creatures who adhere to a strict code of honor. We insulted that honor, first by one of our citizens being involved in the theft of their tech, second by our apparent attempt to cover that up, and then third by making it sound like they were nothing but a bunch of blowhard scalebacks with chips on their shoulders. Then, you go to Concordance Station, confess they were right, and refuse to give any ground." He rubs his forehead. "They needed to come away with something besides your complete defiance." Armitage is silent for a moment, glazing the bread with mayo. "Their terms were just unacceptable. I was trying to backtrack over my stupid screw-up with Janne, but I couldn't give up Deserata to the Nall." "They didn't want Deserata," Ellesmere says. "Why would they? It doesn't have many valuable resources, except land, and the Nall aren't overpopulating their worlds. But it's all part of bargaining. They ask for something they know you won't give, allowing room for you to offer something less. But, dammit, Deke, you offer *something*." Armitage sighs, tossing his knife into the sink. "I know they didn't want Deserata, but I had no plans to give them *anything*. I thought my counteroffer would be suitable... and Truffaut is goddamn lucky that we didn't implicate him more than we did." He stops working on the sandwich and turns to face Ellesmere. "I got tied down. I didn't know what to do. We had all this evidence, but we couldn't shake Janne's involvement. I know I'm just making excuses, but I need to know how to proceed from here." Ellesmere nods. "Truffaut didn't help our case at all. He just got the Vox worked up even more." He sips his tea, then sets the glass on the counter. "There are two ways to proceed. Keep stubbornly refusing to pay *any* price for what happened, and end up paying in blood. Or come up with some kind of meaningful compensation for the Nall." Armitage nods slowly. "I wanted to give them Colt or the FJC, but trying to quietly tackle them didn't work. We couldn't now if we tried." Ellesmere shrugs. "And who's to say that would satisfy the Nall? Look at it from their perspective, Deke: We refused to let them question Janne. You went to bat for her, insisted she was innocent. Turns out, you were wrong. Or, as far as they know, you lied. We can't pay that debt by giving them the FJC. The FJC is just another battle they have to fight, and it might cost them their own blood in the process. Would *you* take that deal?" "I don't know," Armitage says, loosely holding his finished sandwich. "I don't know *what* deal I would take right now. Our economy's floundering, people are rioting - and we used to be such an easy-going Republic." Ellesmere tilts his head, considering Armitage quietly for a moment before saying, "You could appease the Nall and put the screws to Sivad pretty easily, Deke." Armitage swallows a bite of his sandwich, nodding. "True, but the evidence is pretty circumstancial, at best. I don't know how much of it they would believe. I mean, no one's heard of the SIS. Truffaut pleaded for his life with me, saying that he'd wind up as a grease-stain if they ever found out that he told me about them. He's out of the loop, anyway." Ellesmere shakes his head. "None of that cloak and dagger crap. I'm talking simple economics." Armitage nods slowly. "Enlighten me." Ellesmere smirks. "Who currently sells polydenum to the Martian Republic?" Armitage nods. "Sivad does." Ellesmere leans against the counter. "Right. Nalhom doesn't exactly have a huge customer base right now. They need funds to rebuild their fleet since the Lem'ing hammered them. Do you see where I'm going?" Armitage nods slowly, taking another bite from his sandwich. "So we switch our supplier, pledging a bunch of capital to the Nall... maybe enough to expand their refining operations?" Ellesmere smiles broadly. "Offer them something they can use, that lets them save face and *helps them*. At the same time, it's a dagger in the back of those smug Sivadian twits." Armitage sets his sandwich lightly on the counter. "There has to be something more, though. I can't imagine that alone will compromise their current 'search and destroy' policies against our vessels." Ellesmere shrugs. "A public apology that isn't backhanded might be nice." Armitage nods, leaning back against the countertop. "Public apologies seem to be an aspect of leadership I can handle." He smirks, gazing at the floor. Ellesmere chuckles, then says, "Extend an olive branch through private channels to the Vox. Don't showboat on the networks. Arrange for some high-level but behind-the-scenes talks without a lot of fanfare. Then: You issue a joint statement with the Vox when everything is worked out." Armitage nods. "Sounds like a good course of action. What about Sivad?" Ellesmere shrugs. "What about them? Far as I'm concerned, they killed our people, stole the Vandervere and tried to wipe out the Cydonia. It's time for them to feel some of the pain we've been dealing with." "I don't want them to think I've forgotten about that," Armitage says. "Maybe it's best to take these things one-at-a-time." Ellesmere smiles, nodding. "Not a bad approach." Armitage glances at his wrist. "I should be on my way. It would be nice to be in bed before three, for once... especially on a Saturday." He discards the crust of his sandwich in the compactor, moving toward the far edge of the kitchenette. "Thanks for your time, Darian. And tell Eudora that the turkey was superb." Ellesmere nods slowly, picking up his tea glass. "Any time, Deke. Good luck." "Thanks," Armitage says, shrugging his coat on and heading out the door.